


A Different Take on Making History

by AlgernonWrites



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Some angst, Viktor's p.o.v., with some HC's in between
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 19:06:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9198812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlgernonWrites/pseuds/AlgernonWrites
Summary: Yuuri might deny it, but Viktor knows everything was set off in that first moment when the other had walked away from him.His interest had definitely been piqued.Viktor’s following decision to pursue said interest was the best one he’d ever made in his life, because despite not participating, he got to stand by the love of his life as history was made during one of the greatest figure skating seasons he’d witnessed.The katsudon had been a bonus.(Or, Yuri!!! on Ice, from Viktor’s P.O.V.. Is he just as unreliable a narrator as Yuuri Katsuki?)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and happy holidays to all my readers! I hope this year treats you all well! First off, this is the first time I write for this fandom. I used to have an SnK fic I was working on before, but I lost all motivation to continue it since all it did was stress me out; thankfully dropping it worked out for the better. I wasn't sure whether I would ever go back to writing, but like everyone else, I also hadn't expected such a huge inspiration like YoI to show up either, but it did, and I'm glad. I would never have written this if it wasn't for the great fandom and Kubo-sensei's wonderful story driving me to get it done. Anyway, it's somewhat straightforward what this story centers around. There will be a chapter per episode of the show, and then maybe one or two epilogues with the potential of a sequel (depends on how I feel once I finish this). I know this is supposed to be Viktor's p.o.v, but I'm thinking I'll switch to Yuuri's for the episode 10 chapter; idk we'll see. I'm also my own beta, so feel free to point out any grammar mistakes I might've missed and I'll make sure to go back and correct them.
> 
> Finally, thanks for giving this a shot, and I hope you enjoy reading!♥

( _December 13, 2014. Grand Prix Final in Sochi, Russia_ ) 

The weight of a gold medal around Viktor’s neck is familiar. However, his emotions after winning the Grand Prix Final (again) are not what they were the first couple of times he won. He’s still proud of course, but the extreme high he used to get from keeping people guessing to see if he’d be able to pull off another win for the gold is gone. He’s sure many already presume he would win gold at the World Championships, and the only speculation going around is about who was going to win silver or bronze. 

He looked to Yuri, who walked ahead of him with Yakov, and knew the boy had the potential to win so many more gold medals as well, but Viktor hoped he never ended up feeling as empty as Viktor did at the moment. 

Yuri must’ve realized Viktor was lagging behind, since he turned around and with a scowl said, “Would you hurry the fuck up!? I want to leave already and you’re taking forever.” 

He replied with a small smile and silently obeyed, not wanting to incite the other’s temper too much right now. Ever since Yuri came back from the restroom, he seems to keep giving off the impression that something’s upset him greatly. Viktor’s used to this by now, but the vibes coming from this boy feel more negative than usual. Maybe he’s still criticizing his own performance like Viktor knows he tends to a lot. If that’s what’s wrong, then Viktor had no problem with helping the boy improve, so he helpfully points out, 

“Yuri, about your free performance, the step sequence could use more – ” 

“I won, so who cares? Quit nagging, Viktor.” 

Well, no one ever said Viktor got by on having tact. Can’t say he didn’t try though. 

Yakov, who must’ve overheard Yuri reject Viktor’s professional advice, was apparently not having that today. In frustration, their coach reprimanded the younger Russian, “Hey, Yuri! You can’t talk that way forever!” 

Knowing the other was in for it now, Viktor began to tune them out, thinking this would probably last a while. Yakov was getting more aggravated with Yuuri these days. Coaching one disobedient ice skater was probably enough for him. 

Lost in his thoughts, however, Viktor suddenly felt the presence of someone staring at him. Being famous, he was used to being stared at, but this also meant that he was never wrong about this feeling. He looked around, trying to guess where the stare was coming from, and out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a Japanese male a few feet to his left, looking straight at Viktor. The man, who seems more wistful than anything, is wearing an ID tag from the competition. He’s also not paying attention to newscaster Morooka’s interrogation, while holding on to a type of luggage other competitors carried around for their costumes. Viktor, assuming he’s just another skater that looks up to him, turns around, smiles and asks out of common courtesy (and because he wouldn’t mind striking up a conversation with the cute man), “A commemorative photo?”

The reaction he gets is a small flush to the stranger’s cheeks, indicating some embarrassment. 

He tries to make up for overwhelming the other by stating a confident, “Sure” to make it clear he doesn’t mind (which he really doesn’t. Not for someone this adorable) if the man comes closer. 

Yet the words seem to have the opposite effect, as the stranger has suddenly gotten over his embarrassment, only to have his expression turn into one of shock and dismay. He doesn’t even receive a reply before the man promptly turns around, dragging his luggage away, his shoulders and head hunched over. 

Morooka asks aloud, “Katsuki-kun, you don’t want a photo with Viktor?”, whilst another buff looking man with brown yet graying hair, calls out to the retreating male, “Yuuri!” 

They’re both ignored. 

Viktor, somewhat stunned by the reaction, only stares as the man continues to leave, and is left to wonder what it was he said that had offended the other so much. 

“What are you staring at?” 

The voice jolts him out of his thoughts. He turns to see Yuri looking in the direction Viktor was staring at before (Yakov is no longer yelling), but a moving crowd has blocked the exit where the other man (Whose name was _also_ Yuri? Well, maybe he hadn’t heard right, though ‘Katsuki’ does sound familiar) left through. The stranger was most likely long gone by now too. 

He hums, deciding to push that memory to the back of his mind, and lets the boy know, “Nothing, I was just thinking about what suit I should wear to the banquet.” 

At the mention of the banquet, Yuri gets over Viktor acting strangely, and groans. “Why do we have to go again? It’s _boring_.” 

Chuckling, he answers, “You’re not wrong, but it’s proper etiquette. You better get used to it if you plan on staying a top figure skater.” 

This causes Yuri to huff irritably. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go already.” 

Yakov agrees right away. “Yes, _let’s_. I need you both dressed in your suits pronto. They want to see the gold medalists more than anyone.” 

And so Viktor joins them as they head to the hotel they’re all staying in, preparing himself for an uneventful evening of small talk and polite conversation. 

Upset brown eyes pop up in his mind more than he cares to admit. 

___

As far as the venue goes, the banquet is pretty decent looking. Everyone who has arrived is elegantly dressed, as expected. Also expected, is the usual congratulations he’s always received since his third win at the Grand Prix Final: 

“Victor, congratulations on another gold!” 

He shakes their hand and replies courteously, “Thank you.” 

“Bet you never get tired of this, huh?” 

“How could I?” he answers, smile thin. 

“I knew you’d win again Nikiforov!” 

“Are you psychic now? Ha ha! Just kidding!” he says cheerily. 

“I expect you’ll do just as great at the World Championships!” 

He winks at them. “We’ll see, won’t we?” 

Yes, it’s all very flattering. Nonetheless, secretly, hearing all these things make him nervous. He’s afraid he’s finally losing his element of surprise. He can’t imagine skating without that, but then again … what else is there for him to do? Being on the ice comes natural to him, but lately once he comes off it, the world just feels wrong, and he has this urge to fix it. Viktor hopes to figure out what it is that will do just that before the World Championships and the other competitions come up, because he does plan on winning, but he doesn’t want his state of mind to compromise him. 

At some point in the middle of being congratulated by another group of people, Viktor spots a familiar blond head and exclaims, “Yuri! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”, before excusing himself from the group to latch on to an annoyed Yuri’s shoulders while Viktor guides them away. 

Viktor only stops when he reaches the table where the champagne is left for guests to serve themselves. He lets go of Yuri’s shoulder to pour himself a glass, then walks in hand with it while the younger follows. After taking a grateful sip, he sighs, then stops to look to Yuri, who’s been weirdly silent this whole time, but if he’s reading the boy’s expression right (for once), the curiosity over Viktor’s behavior is there. 

He’s just about to reassure Yuri that all is fine, he’s just a bit tired, but then a loud, gruff voice cuts in: 

“What’s wrong Yuuri? You look so glum. Have you had anything to drink? There’s pizza.” 

Initially, he thinks someone is addressing Yuri, so he turns to see where the voice is coming from, and is surprised when he sees the same buff, long-haired man trying to cheer up the man from before that had rejected Viktor. He looks miserable, like he would rather be anywhere but here, and Viktor can’t quite make out what he mumbles to the bigger man (his coach maybe? Viktor still thinks he’s probably another skater), before apparently listening to the man’s advice and moving towards the refreshments table. 

Does that mean he’d heard right and the other’s name was actually Yuri too? He had to be sure though, so he turned to ask his friend, “Hey Yuri, was there someone else who competed with the same name as you?” 

And just like that, the boy’s mood goes from curious to menacing. When he spits out, “ _Don’t_ remind me. I’m _nothing_ like him though, he’s a terrible skater”, Viktor is a bit taken aback by the venom in his tone. 

This time, he asks, “What do you mean by that? Was his score that bad?” 

It’s obvious Yuri wants to drop the subject already when he says through gritted teeth, “You have a phone; Figure it out yourself.” 

So Viktor listens, and after taking out his phone, he does a quick google search for ‘Grand Prix Final competitors’. He clicks on the first link and figures out the other Yuuri (spelled with two “U’s” , last name Katsuki, on the website) is indeed a competitor who represented Japan. However, he also realizes the man had unfortunately also placed last at the competition. No wonder he looked so down. Also, he looks nothing like how he did while competing. One the ice, Yuuri was without glasses and had his hair slicked back, and now he had the glasses back on and his hair casually down in a floppy fashion. Either way the man was attractive, but he couldn’t deny Yuuri had at least two different types of beauty to him. It’s probably why Viktor didn’t recognize him before. 

Looking up, Viktor sees Yuuri is already on his second glass, not making any effort to leave the refreshments table and seemingly wanting to be left alone. Viktor unexpectedly wants to go up to and try to console him (how odd…), but can’t seem to make himself move forward, not wanting a repeat of his previous failure to interact with the man. 

However, as he continues to mingle with other skaters and guests (Yuri kept as a buffer at his side), he also can’t help but keep track of Yuuri as well, who just keeps drinking champagne glasses the whole time. 

And drinking. 

And drinking. 

And _drinking_. 

Viktor’s actually thinking maybe it’s time for him to intervene because, _damn_ , there’s over a dozen empty glasses on the table, and that’s enough to make him reason that a case of alcohol poisoning should be avoided. Yet, the moment he’s decided this, he sees Yuuri has finally turned away from the refreshment’s table, face flushed, and completely smashed. 

Yuuri then proceeds to take off his glasses, loosens the tie around his neck until it’s completely off, and tucks them into his jacket pocket. When he clumsily unbuttons the top button of his white shirt, and then walks towards Viktor’s direction, champagne bottle in hand, an anxious feeling starts to build up inside of Viktor. 

His movements are sluggish and his eyes are a bit glazed over. Viktor waits for Yuuri to spot him, but when the man finally does, Viktor is surprised when he only scrunches his brows and ignores him again in favor of turning Yuri around, and straight up demands, English somewhat broken, “Hey, you, me, dance-off. Right now.” 

Despite getting ignored again (does he smell bad or something?), when Yuri screeches out a shocked, “ _Huh?!_ The fuck did you just say?!”, Viktor knows if he has nothing to remember this moment by, he will regret it, so he takes out his phone again, ready to snap pictures of said moment. 

He starts taking pictures when Yuuri comes closer, and whispers, “You heard me, “ to Yuri. Then the man sticks his tongue out, hunches over, and makes and “L” sign with his hand. He then states, “Unless you’re too chicken!” while doing a random twirl. Yuuri has moved back somewhat and has started to drink straight out of the bottle in a dramatic manner. When he stops, it’s only to come closer again with a dopey smile plastered on, holds the champagne out to Yuri in a taunting way and exclaims, “It’s fine if you don’t wanna! I’d be scared trying to keep up with the grown-ups if I was a baby too!” 

It’s been a while since he’s seen Yuri this angry, face _very_ red, and so it’s no surprise when they boy shouts, “Piss off! I can kick your ass at anything any day! I accept your challenge!” 

Yuuri, pleased with the response, proceeds to take off his jacket. Strangely enough (Or not, the guy is drunk after all), he also puts his tie back on after flinging his jacket away. He rolls his sleeves back, and right when Viktor is about to start taking pictures again, Yuri snaps at him, “Don’t you _dare_ Viktor.” 

As the boy moves towards the large space the crowd has provided for the dance-off (everyone looks excited, stunned, or anxious to see what’s about to happen), Viktor contemplates taking pictures anyways, but then a voice comes out of nowhere from behind him and says huskily, “No worries. I’ll use my phone instead if you can’t. Yuri never said _I_ shouldn’t.” 

At that, he can’t help but chuckle, and says, “Always eager for a good contest, aren’t you Chris?” 

Chris moves to stand next to Viktor, camera phone out and ready to take pictures for when the dancing starts, and smirks. “You know I am, but let’s see if it’s actually any good first. Look how drunk that guy is! I bet you ten dollars this will end in less than three minutes with vomit everywhere.” 

He doesn’t manage to bet anything himself though, because Yuuri’s voice abruptly takes away his focus, announcing, “All right! DJ, put on something that’ll let me flex my inner b-boy!” 

“There _is_ no DJ, dumbass. And what the hell is a b-boy?” Yuri was getting more frustrated by the second. 

“I can play it on my phone! What do you have in mind?!” Seeing Chris get so suddenly excited to see them dance has Viktor even more curious now. 

Yuuri perks up right away hearing that, and enthusiastically declares, “Let’s go for ‘Can You Feel It’ by Jean Roch!” 

Viktor’s shoulder is roughly shaken by Chris, who’s speaking impatiently. “Viktor, play the freaking song on your phone already. I need to be taking pictures of all this!” He does as he’s told in a rushed manner, wanting to know why the words ‘b-boy’ had Chris so eager. 

When he finds the song on YouTube and clicks play, he finally understands the reason for all the enthusiasm. 

He’s barely able to appreciate the interesting music (the sounds a mixture of an elegant orchestra, yet with a very upbeat hip-hop added in as well) because while Yuri has decided to move gracefully to the song, Yuuri has passionately started –

“ _Breakdancing_! Yes! It’s been so long since I’ve seen this!” 

Sara screeching in Viktor’s ear (when did she even get so close?) is not the most pleasant experience, but then he registers that she’s correct, that’s indeed what Yuuri is doing. In fact, not only is Yuuri breakdancing, he’s _killing_ it! Viktor turns and sees Sara taking pictures of the whole event as well (with a phone he suspects is actually Yuri’s). Mila, another Russian skater, seems amazed if the blush on her face was anything to go by. 

While Yuri looks as if he’s just realized he’s out of his league in this dance-off, Viktor decides, ‘ _Fuck it_ ’, and comes a lot closer, giddy with the prospect of joining in. He just needs to find the right moment. He can’t help but laugh in amazement when Yuuri pulls off a move wherein the man is balancing himself with one hand on the floor, the rest in the air, which causes the bottom of Yuuri’s shirt to fall down, revealing the man’s abs and flat stomach. 

Deciding this was the moment (he definitely needed to get the attention of this lively specimen), Viktor starts to dance spontaneously (though he keeps a good grip on his phone to not shut off the song). He hopes to feel as into the music as Yuuri is right now, limbs becoming more loose and a carefree smile in place. Sadly, as soon as Viktor thinks he’s getting the hang of things, the song ends, and unsurprisingly, Yuuri is declared the winner by Chris. 

As soon as Yuri stomps away in a fit, Viktor starts to feel at a loss now that he never got to get Yuuri’s attention. God bless whoever yells “Another dance-off!” though (the voice sounds like Mila’s), because right away Yuuri yells out, “Yeah! Let’s do flamenco!” 

Flamenco? Oh, Viktor was very familiar with flamenco. He knew just what song he had in mind to dance flamenco to. As soon as he found it on YouTube (the song was “Tormenta de Fuego” by Ruben Romero and Lydia Torea), he was about to push play, but then he realized he wouldn’t get to dance if he was the one in charge of keeping the music going. 

Unexpectedly, Chris was the one to come up to Viktor and save the day by offering, “I can tell just how badly you want to join Yuuri. I’ll hold your phone for you, but only if you do the same for me in the next dance-off. Deal?” 

Good enough. “Yes!” Viktor didn’t hesitate to hand his phone over to Chris, who pushed play while Viktor finally moved towards the center of the free space where the incredulous event was unfolding before everyone’s eyes. 

To his amusement though, Yuuri (not even caring that no challenger has shown up yet) is already dancing to the fervent music, and Viktor would hate to mess up that man’s rhythm, so he decides to just go with the flow and try to enjoy himself for once alongside this curious man. And he does, more than he thought he would. When Yuuri claps to the song, Viktor throws his hands upwards and bends one leg at the same time. As they continue to move, swing, and twirl enthusiastically, Yuuri gets so heated up that he ends up unbuttoning his entire shirt (and obviously Viktor can’t help appreciating the sight). At one point Viktor gets his wish of having Yuuri take notice of him, and by pure luck he guesses what the man blurting Japanese at him wants when he pretends to act like a bull; Viktor has no problem acting like the matador. He’s having so much fun, but when Yuuri suddenly holds onto him from around the waist to lead him in the dance, Viktor can’t help but melt in the embrace. He lifts his leg up on queue and lets Yuuri move him forward, both their left arms extended. He looks at Yuuri in a pleased manner and sees the same expression mirrored back at him. Finally, for their last move when the song’s crescendo is building up, Yuuri holds onto Viktor’s head and grips his right leg while he dips Viktor backwards; Viktor’s right hand moves to hold onto the small of Yuuri’s back. They stay this way for a few seconds, both of them unable to stop smiling and laughing in pure exhilaration, high on endorphins and all good feelings. Viktor is having the time of his life. 

When was the last time Viktor got to let go of all inhibitions outside of the ice rink? This was new to him; everything outside of skating was devoted to training for it. Viktor liked to find new ways to improve his performances without relying on others. He’d trained in a couple of pair skating routines before, but Yuuri was the first person he felt connected to as they’d moved in synch. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. 

A deal is a deal though, so when they step away from each other (did either of them win? If so, Viktor hadn’t heard, Yuuri was too distracting) and Chris calls out, “My turn! Yuuri, let’s go for another dance-off!”, Viktor voices no complaints (outwardly anyway) when Yuuri leaves Viktor behind yelling, “You’re on!” 

Of course, maybe it’s the shock of seeing how Chris had set up his portable stripper pole (which Viktor is sadly familiar with) while Viktor was dancing with a gorgeous enigma, that has him unable to speak. His mouth is still hanging when a stranger comes up to him to hand Viktor both his and Chris’ phone, with the comment of, “Chris says to play ‘Toxic’ by Britney Spears”. 

What is going on? 

“Viktor, stop making us wait; play the song!” 

The giggle and mumbling in Japanese he hears (he only understands the words “do this right”) in response to Chris has Viktor looking up, and the sight he meets has him choking on his spit. 

Yuuri is currently without his pants and shoes, leaving him with just his shirt, tie, black briefs and socks on. 

Wow. Just, _wow_. 

“Viktor!” 

“Huh? Oh, yes. Sorry, let me just…” He finds the song as fast as possible, not wanting to lose the beautiful sight for too long. 

He pays rapt attention as soon as the song begins to play, which highly pays off. The first thing Yuuri does is hold himself on the pole with just his thighs and one hand, the rest of his body extended sensually. He then proceeds to do more poses that look impossible yet still erotic. Chris ups his game by taking off all his clothes except his purple underwear and tie. He poses by holding himself sideways with his legs in the air and only holding onto the pole with both hands. He’s given a bottle of champagne upon request, and opens it to spill it everywhere while on the pole. Yuuri steps up to the challenge by taking everything but his briefs, socks, and tie off too, then has Chris held over his knee while Yuuri himself holds onto the pole. For their next move, Chris holds himself upside down on the pole while Yuuri stands on his inner thighs, spilling his own champagne bottle all over the both of them (yeah, a Yuuri this confident was definitely attractive). When the song is nearing the end, for their last pose Yuuri holds himself facing downwards, with just his hands on the pole, while Chris lays his ass on Yuuri’s back, hand outstretched and foot gripping onto Yuuri’s inner thigh. 

Viktor never, upon first laying eyes on the smaller man, would’ve imagined Yuuri was capable of having such tremendous strength and endurance to pull so much of this off. Viktor is still feeling tired himself from just their one dance-off; not to mention hot – was it just him or was it really _hot_ all of a sudden? 

Yuuri licks the sweat off his upper lip, and Viktor thinks, ‘ _No, that’s just Yuuri._ ’ 

As Chris hops off the pole (clearly exhausted), and says Yuuri is the winner for thinking of the best poses and because Chris doesn’t have the stamina to continue, Viktor thinks he wouldn’t be surprised if Yuuri had one more dance left in him. Chris starts getting dressed, but settles for just having his pants on before walking towards Viktor. He pays him no attention, busy watching Yuuri also hop off the pole, only to be approached by his coach (the website said his name was Celestino, right?), and is given his clothes one by one by the exasperated man. Yuuri puts on his shirt, albeit missing a few buttons clumsily, but suddenly decides his tie would look a lot better tied around his head. Viktor can’t help but laugh in delight at this. The man is so adorable! 

Yuuri pauses in his changing, taking notice of the still chuckling Viktor. Viktor stops laughing when Yuuri continues to stare at him, and when Yuuri abruptly flings his pants away and starts to rush towards him, the determination in his pace makes Viktor nervous. So nervous he can only stand frozen in place, suspecting something major is about to occur. 

He has every right to suspect apparently, because in the next moment Viktor has the shock of his life when, upon reaching him, Yuuri suddenly drapes himself all over him. Viktor’s arms become trapped by Yuuri’s. Yet, the instant Yuuri starts to dry hump him, Viktor feels as if he’s about to die right then and there from how fast his heart is beating. He pays no mind to the fact that everyone is watching them, only looks to Yuuri, who keeps mumbling to him in Japanese, and Viktor wishes he could know what the other is saying, but all he understands is “Viktor”, “my family runs”, “hot spring”, and “please come.” It sounds like an invitation, but he doesn’t want to assume, so Viktor finally takes a good look at Yuuri to try speaking to him in English so they’ll both be able to talk. However, one look at Yuuri’s face (extremely flushed and sweating, tiny nose crinkled, and eyes sparkling brighter than any medal), and Viktor is at a loss for what to say again. Yuuri stops moving (tragic) once he sees he has Viktor’s full attention, and in a pleading tone, blurts out more Japanese wherein Viktor can only translate the words “win” “dance”, and “my coach, right?” 

His breathe stutters, but Yuuri continues to surprise him by suddenly wrapping his arms around Viktor’s neck, begging (in English this time, bless.), “Be my coach, Viktor!” 

_Oh._

( _Thump thump_ ) 

Viktor gasped, feeling his face heat up. 

Is – what was _this_? 

There was a -a _warmth_ spreading inside of him, that he could swear had begun to coil around his heart. It should worry Viktor, but the feeling was actually extremely pleasant. It wasn’t a type of sexual rush one gets from intimate contact like the embrace he was receiving (surprising since Yuuri had just dry humped him not ten seconds before – he’d been more shocked by that than anything), but more like a lovely humming he felt his soul emitting. 

He wasn’t sure what this feeling was. Not for certain. One thing was for sure though; he didn’t want to let it go, just like he didn’t want to let this man go-

“So, so sorry about that Viktor! He tends to get really impulsive when he’s had too much to drink! Let me just take him off your hands!” 

Before he could protest ( _Wait, what are you doing? Don’t take him away, not yet!_ ), Celestino grabbed onto Yuuri and forced him to stop latching onto Viktor before starting to drag him away, arm wrapped around his waist. 

As the Japanese male wasn’t that far away yet, Viktor managed to catch him say deliriously, “Celestino! If you wanted to join the dance-off you could’ve just said so! C’mon, you and me, let’s go!” He heard no reply from the coach. Only saw him stop to pick up the rest of Yuuri’s discarded clothes piled on a nearby chair, then continue walking towards a lit-up hallway. 

He almost ran after them, but had to squash the urge. What would even be the point? The night had to end sometime. 

“What the fuck was up with _that_?” 

It sounds almost as if Yuri is about to have a conniption, but Viktor could care less, too occupied mulling over all the emotions wanting to burst inside of him. 

_Be my coach, Viktor!_

What an outlandish request, so out of the blue that it wasn’t until this moment that Viktor even contemplated anything related to turning to coaching. No one before had ever wanted Viktor in this way, as a guiding force that would lead them to success. It was somewhat of a refreshing thought, but still; Viktor Nikiforov, become a coach? How would that even work? Could it? Probably not. He didn’t know a damn thing about coaching. Plus, did Yuuri even mean that? He was drunk as hell after all. 

Crap, why was he considering this anyways? He was only familiar with competitive ice skating and should just stick to that. 

No, he knew why he was considering it. It’s because of the warmth that had engulfed his soul and had yet to leave. The wonderful feeling stayed as long as he still thought of Yuuri, and the thought of being near him again only made it more intense. 

Viktor wondered if maybe this was…no, it can’t be, not so soon. He only just met the man. What he was thinking of would require getting to know Yuuri on a much deeper level. Which, honestly, didn’t sound so bad. However, he had no idea how he’d manage that, besides coaching him, but that idea was still fresh and Viktor knew he had to think about it more. 

He wasn’t even sure if he wanted to retire yet. Imagining a world where he stopped depending on just himself to keep succeeding was daunting. 

And yet…

He had to find a way to see Yuuri again. Because there was no way this was the last time Yuuri Katsuki would show Viktor a world wherein he finally felt alive. 

On Viktor’s way back to St. Petersburg the next day, he thinks, ‘ _I wonder if I’d enjoy Japan’s weather as well?_ ’ 

___

( _December 16, 2014. St. Petersburg, Russia_ ) 

It turns out Viktor had gotten seduced by the most private figure skater ever. 

Yuuri Katsuki apparently had no social media presence. 

Well, he did have an Instagram, but it was rarely used, with the only pictures on his account being a photo of Yuuri himself, and a selfie of him and a Thai skater with the tag ‘#Detroit’ under it. The pictures were more than a year old. The official figure skating profile of Yuuri said his family ran a hot spring business in Hasetsu, but Viktor wasn’t flying all the way to Japan just to have a conversation. 

What was he supposed to do with this information? Viktor had no way to get in contact with Yuuri if the man kept everything personal to himself. 

Viktor sighed, shutting his laptop down and moving it to the side on his bed. For the countless time that day, he took out his phone to look at the photos from three days ago. As soon as Yuuri’s face came up on his screen, Viktor let out a small smile. 

He’d had such a wonderful time that night. And as drunk as Yuuri had been, he knew the other had had a wonderful time as well. At least, that’s what Viktor liked to think. 

_Be my coach, Viktor!_

That had to mean something, right? A drunk man says what he’s really thinking, and that meant Yuuri had to have some admiration for Viktor to have requested something this important from him. 

But if that was true, why hadn’t Yuuri gotten in contact with Viktor by now? Viktor definitely was not as private as Yuuri, and there were many ways to reach him. Surely, after a night like that, Yuuri wasn’t thinking the connection they shared meant nothing? 

Because there _was_ a connection; there was no denying that. How where they connected? That’s what Viktor wanted to know. Badly, if only to alleviate the ache in his chest whenever the Japanese man popped into his head. 

Maybe, because the season had yet to end, Yuuri was too busy with training for the following competitions. That would make sense; Viktor was undergoing a rigorous training regimen as well for the Russian Figure Skating Championships in late December. Right now, however, he was in the middle of taking a break, forced upon him by Yakov, who had no patience for a Viktor that skated in an unmotivated and distracted manner. 

That was also another problem. 

Viktor was in a bit of a slump. Every time he practiced on the ice, he became unfocused, questions like, ‘ _Does Yuuri skate as magnificently as he dances?_ ’, ‘ _Does he think_ I’m _a great skater?_ ’, ‘ _Is he still offended over something I’d said before after the Grand Prix Final?_ , ‘ _Is that why he hasn’t tried getting in touch with me?_ ’, ‘ _Does he like dogs?_ ’, ‘ _Is he single?_ ’, ‘ _Would he like Russia?_ ’, ‘ _Should I learn more Japanese?_ ’, ‘ _What music does Yuuri like?_ ’, ‘ _What was his theme?_ ’, and ‘ _Did the banquet mean anything to Yuuri?_ ’ all running around in his head. 

He would mindlessly skate, not faltering in his jumps or step-sequences (which were half-assed), but not really knowing where he was going with any of the routines he would start setting up. His training was supposed to be about improving his free skate and short program for the season, but he just couldn’t come up with anything. Yakov, having coached Viktor throughout almost the entirety of his career, of course noticed something wasn’t right with Viktor. And he’d let Viktor know in his own special way: 

“Get off the ice if you’re not going to use it properly. There’s no effort to anything you’ve practiced so far. Frankly, it’s painful watching the mess you’ve been skating. Don’t you plant to win at Russian Nationals?” 

“Of course,” Vikctor had firmly replied. “I can’t seem to understand what I can do to improve my skating though, but I’ll figure something out.” 

Yakov had grunted in response. “See that you do. Don’t come back until you’ve got your mind set straight. I don’t want a skater getting injured just because he keeps daydreaming in the middle of his routine.” 

Usually, Viktor didn’t bother to listen to his coach and did his own thing, but even he had to admit he was only wasting his time practicing with his thoughts far away from the ice. 

So now here he was, after tirelessly searching for any way to get in contact with Yuuri again (as he’d been doing ever since he’d arrived in St. Petersburg) and finding zilch, contemplating what else he could do to quiet the ongoing yearning inside of him. Otherwise, he didn’t know how he’d find the focus he needed to win the Russian Nationals. If there was a way to incorporate his recent emotions (longing, worry, curiosity, delight, _loss_ even – all of which kept distracting him) into a skating program, he’d do it without question. 

And right then, an idea struck him. 

Viktor sat up straight, snapped his fingers, and exclaimed, “Yes, that’s perfect! Why didn’t I think of this before?!” 

His shouting woke up Makkachin from his slumber, who huffed in annoyance from his spot next to Viktor’s bed. Viktor apologized, but was secretly not that sorry, for he was too excited to have finally found a solution to his dilemma. 

For the rest of the day, Viktor spent it writing down and reconstructing his routine for his free skate in a way that would best fit exactly what he had in mind. It took a while (he could be somewhat of a perfectionist when it came to the programs he wanted to compete with), but sometime around 11 p.m., Viktor eventually sent a text to Yakov that read: 

**I know what I’m skating to now. See you bright and early tomorrow!**

Then he went straight to bed, wanting a good night’s rest. After all, he needed to be in top shape if he wanted to receive gold at Russian Nationals, and especially at the World Championships. Everything that would come after the end of the season could wait. 

For now. 

___

( _December 28, 2014– Russian Figure Skating Championships in Sochi, Russia_ ) 

Without a doubt, Viktor knew his free skate had yet to be perfected, which frustrated the hell out of him. Nonetheless, when the time came for him to perform it, he was also aware that he’d had nothing to worry about in terms of surprising his audience once again. 

Most of his routine had been changed, the difficulty level much higher now, and whilst before he relied on his acting skills for outstanding presentation scores, this time he’d tried to show his real emotions to the world. 

In the end, he couldn’t, because he didn’t know what exactly he was supposed to be feeling, and what it was that he wanted others to see. 

Either way, with a flawless performance of spins and jumps (his signature quad flip always a handy reliance), he still manages to win gold. 

Russia is proud of him. 

The medal feels too heavy. 

___

( _December 30, 2014_ ) 

On his flight back to St. Petersburg, Viktor is finally able to catch a break after all the hectic chaos that came from the end of the competition. Knowing this, Viktor takes out his phone to check up on something he’s been anxious to know for a while. 

It’s a pity that Russian Nationals for figure skating were held at the same time as the Japanese Nationals, otherwise Viktor would’ve been able to see Yuuri skate on live television. 

When Viktor finds out the scores for all the competitors, his heart sinks. Out of all 30 competing men single figure skaters, Yuuri ended up in 7th place. It’s not the worst place to be, but Viktor remembers how in synch the man was to any music he chose to move to, and knows Yuuri deserved to win _only_ a gold medal. After watching both Yuuri’s short program and his free skate, Viktor can pick out all the ways only vigorous training could improve the other’s jumps. In terms of presentation and step-sequences, however, Viktor finds himself charmed all over again, and can barely come up with any faults in it. Nevertheless, he thinks maybe if he was there instead of Celestino, Yuuri would’ve had a higher chance at winning gold like Viktor knows that he could. 

But he wasn’t there; he’s not a coach. 

Viktor is a competitive figure skater, because that’s all he knows. 

It should be enough. 

___

( _January 30, 2015. European Figure Skating Championships in Stockholm, Sweden_ ) 

When Viktor steps off the ice rink, Yakov claps him on the shoulder and mentions, “I see you’ve reverted back to acting out what the audience wants from you. Personally, I prefer your performance in Russia.” 

Viktor isn’t able to defend his choices (he still wasn’t sure what part of himself he wanted to show on the ice – the part Yuuri had awoken in him. It was too raw and new and it confused him at the same time as it pleased him; he didn’t know how he’d explain this to Yakov), since Yakov continues with, “But the ice loves you, so ignore my words if you keep winning gold anyway.” 

Later, at the top of the first place podium, deafening cheers all around him, the smile on his face feels too tight. 

___

( _March 28, 2015. World Figure Skating Championships in Yoyogi, Tokyo_ ) 

Viktor skated around the ice rink to salute his fans (he’s always been grateful for their support) before moving towards the center of the rink, and moments before “Stay Close to Me” began to play, he silently wished, 

‘ _Yuuri, I hope you’re watching this._ ’ 

This time, he skates with purpose in his presentation. He’s still unaware of what the warmth in his chest means to him, but he holds onto the sensation tighter than ever before; his desperation for it to please not ever leave him is what he’s finally decided to show the world. 

On the inside, he knows he’ll never be able to convince anybody of the innocence he requires to pull off this program, but Viktor does his best, hoping everyone will be enthralled by his attempt to bring raw emotions (that he’s always neglected -before meeting Yuuri - to try managing) into the ice. 

When the song ends along with his performance, Viktor’s aware he held back much of the warmth that wanted to bubble up to the surface, afraid of letting the audience see him so bare, and although it’s an achievement that he attempted it at all, he feels disappointed in himself for not doing his absolute best. 

The fact that he still ends up in first place doesn’t even lift up his spirits, only makes him think that maybe his real emotions don’t belong in competitive figure skating. 

As he receives his gold medal once again, making this his fifth consecutive win, Viktor smiles for the camera as always. 

His heart begins to sting, and he hopes Yuuri never did see that fake performance after all. 

___

( _March 31, 2015 – St. Petersburg, Russia_ ) 

Viktor is sitting up on his bed, Makkachin next to him, and is watching himself on television. 

He watches how at the press conference held after the World Championships, a woman asks Viktor, “ _What do you have in mind for next season?_ ”, and Viktor had stayed silent, contemplating for a moment, before answering with a casual, “ _There’s a lot to consider, so I’ll be discussing that with my coach when I get home._ ” 

There had been a flurry of multiple questions that he’d answered, but just that one had stood out the most. 

What _was_ he going to do for next season? 

That was the big question, wasn’t it? 

The worst part was that he still didn’t know. 

He groans and closes his eyes at the same time as he lays back down on his soft pillows. 

This morning he’d visited the ice rink where he usually practiced, hoping the natural pull he felt towards it would help convince him that this is where he belonged, in competition. 

He’d found that his skating was still faultless, but he’d lost all inspiration as to what to do with it. He felt numb, empty, and tired. 

The only times he felt anything was when he tried to call back that warmth to him. It wasn’t that hard, all he had to do was think of Yuuri, but the only reason he tried not to as much these days was because then he’d remember that there was no way for him to see Yuuri again, and he’d feel that stinging in his heart afterwards. 

The pride and joy he felt when skating used to be enough for him, but now he felt none of that either. 

Who was Viktor Nikiforov without figure skating though? 

If only he knew. 

He thinks maybe he should retire, but with no desire or knowledge of anything besides competitive figure skating, he doesn’t see the point of that either. 

Viktor falls asleep to the noise of the TV. 

He dreams of sparkling brown eyes. 

___

( _April 10, 2015. St. Petersburg, Russia_ ) 

Viktor is on his way to practice, as promised to Yuri, who’d, in a text, claimed he had something important to say to Viktor, so if he ‘ _doesn’t hurry the hell up and stop sleeping his old life away, he could no longer have any more of Grandpa Plisetsky’s pirozhkis!_ ’ 

A world without those heavenly pirozhkis is not a world worth living in, so Viktor had rushed to meet up with Yuri at the ice rink. 

When he reaches the entrance, however, he’s ambushed by Yakov, who looks extremely fed up. Understandable, seeing as how Viktor has been M.I.A from all practice sessions and has ignored all calls and texts from his Russian team up until this point. 

He thinks about turning around and heading back home if only to avoid explaining his irresponsible behavior, but Yakov convinces him to stay when he resolutely says, “We have a lot to discuss, but first go speak to Yuri. The boy won’t show it, but he’s been anxious to talk to you for a few days now. It’s distracting him from his training, so get it out of the way as soon as possible.” 

Viktor raises an eyebrow, but listens. It’s funny how Yakov shows he cares for the young skater in his own emotionally stunted way. 

He knows Yuri will be waiting for Viktor on the ice rink, as he always does when they practice, so Viktor heads for the locker room to put up his shoes first and then changes into his ice skates. He waits until he reaches the rink to take his skate guards off. 

While Yuri is leaning against the edge inside of the rink, the frown on his face grows deeper the closer Viktor skates towards him. Knowing how prone the other was to kicking people when upset, Viktor makes sure to stop a few feet away from Yuri. 

Yuri is the first to speak, voice harsh. “I see you’ve finally deemed us all worthy of your presence.” 

“Us?” 

The boy crossed his arms. “Mila and Georgi are speaking with Yakov in the backroom right now. They want to know if you told him what’s been up your ass these days.” 

“How nosy.” Viktor smiled with all his teeth. “I’m here now though, so what did you want to say to me that was so important?” 

The other opened his mouth, as if prepared to shout, but then closed it and shook his head. Yuri ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated manner before asking in a genuinely confused voice, “I- why have you been acting so weird these days?” 

He bit his lip before responding innocently. “What do you mean?” 

That just aggravated Yuri even more. “You _know_ what I mean. Why haven’t you come to practice for so long?” 

Viktor shrugged, then moved his hand in a casual gesture. “Oh, you know, I’ve been busy. I was figuring out the choreography for my new short program, but I’ve been indecisive about which one to go with since I’ve come up with more than one routine.” 

It had happened out of nowhere one day, when Viktor had been torturing himself looking at the banquet pictures of Yuuri again. They brought back happy memories, along with the question Viktor had been asking himself for so long, ‘ _Yuuri, what is it that I feel for you?_ ’. He just had to know. It was only through figure skating that Viktor knew how to express himself, and so that’s the path he had taken. It had been intense, digging deep into his emotions and experiences like that and trying to convey them through skating, so intense that he’d had to split up his answers to the previous question to fit into different themes for separate programs. Neither program was even close to being finished, but he’d decided he couldn’t just do nothing; it’s not who he was. Without great inspiration though, he dreaded he’d never find a way to get them done. 

For some reason, nonetheless, Viktor’s answer seemed to be exactly what the other had needed to hear, the fight gone from his stance. Still, the boy asked, presumably to make sure of whatever he’d been worried about, “Tch, so you haven’t been wasting away in your house this whole time you’ve ignored everyone as I suspected then?” 

He taps his index finger against his chin in thought. “Not exactly, no…. I’ve come by to practice a couple times when no one else was around.” 

That had been done on purpose, of course. He hadn’t wanted the others to think he’d gone crazy as he mumbled to himself in between practicing two vastly different programs. Most of all, he didn’t want them to witness the moments wherein he could not come up with what to do next and simply just stood there on the ice, waiting for some creativity to come to him. 

Yuri pursed his lips, as if holding himself back from asking a certain question, so Viktor (wanting to prove he really had been productive) asked for him, “Do you want to see what I have so far?” 

Loss of eye contact and a muttered, “Sure, whatever,” was the response he got. 

After Yuri moved outside of the rink to give Viktor his space, he let the boy know, “Sadly, I don’t have the music I plan to use, so you’ll have to use your imagination as I go along.” 

He took the other’s silence as an acceptance, and then began to skate, starting with ‘eros’. As Viktor moved along to ‘eros’, he focused on his memories of Yuuri’s seductive nature. His spins and steps mimicked that strong passion seen in Yuuri as he’d led Viktor in their wonderful dance together. The way that body moved perfectly along with Viktor’s to the fiery music of flamenco, along with the powerful flex of his muscles as Yuuri posed and danced erotically using a stripper pole are what led Viktor to think of eros. Eros described the sexual attraction one felt for another, and it was partly what represented Viktor’s feelings for Yuuri. His aim was to seduce the most enthralling person he knew, which in his mind was Yuuri, even knowing that at the end of the night, the equally as seductive man would leave, never to be seen again. Before he gets caught up on that sad note where he gets stuck on how to continue, Viktor halts his movements. 

He clears his throat before announcing to the room, (which now includes Mila, Georgi, and Yakov, whom have shown up to stand next to Yuri. Viktor tries not to pay attention after noticing them, not wanting to lose his focus) “This is the second program I’ve been working on”, and then starts skating to ‘agape’. He wishes he could really explore this routine more and the meaning behind it, but unfortunately, Viktor feels even more lost as to how to approach, let alone finish it. One could not say he doesn’t do his best though, and so he lets the warmth that gives him both pain and pleasure consume him. His jumps are of the highest caliber, and the more he continues to do them, the more tired and yet the more determined he becomes. He’d sacrifice all of himself as long as that wonderful feeling never left him. Nonetheless, if it ever did, Viktor would not regret his actions, and would do it all over again. Agape is supposed to be a selfless, unconditional, and sacrificial love. He’s not sure if this powerful form of ‘love’ is exactly what Viktor feels (he doesn’t even know Yuuri), but he likes to believe that the potential is there, and he has hope that one day he’ll get there. Viktor stops as soon as Makkachin comes to mind. 

(He thought he’d always been affectionate towards the dog who was almost like a child to him, but the fact that Viktor is almost always away from home for training and competitions has made him realize he’s not the best type of owner either. If he truly loved Makkachin, wouldn’t he have made more time to see him? Makkachin isn’t getting any younger, so what’s going to happen if his precious dog keels over one day while Viktor is away competing? What a selfish man he is.) 

Realizing Viktor was done, Georgi and Mila cheered and clapped for him, though Yakov stayed silent (he was probably wondering why none of the programs were finished). Viktor thanked them, skated towards Yuri and then leaned forward. “Pretty great so far, right?” 

Yuri pretended he was not that impressed, but Viktor knew better. The boy grunted, “Just don’t waste our time again thinking you’ve decided your old bones can’t take the heat anymore after all.” 

So _that’s_ what this was about. “Yuri, were you afraid I was retiring? Because I can let you know right now, that’s not my intention. What would I be doing if I wasn’t skating?” 

‘ _Please, if you have any idea, please tell me_ ,’ he thought. He felt like an artist that kept creating beautiful pieces of work, even though they knew it would not cure them of the emptiness inside of them; they just worked on their art because it was familiar territory. 

The response he received was disappointing. 

Mila smiled and cheerfully said, as if Viktor’s question had been rhetorical, “That’s good to hear, Viktor.” 

Georgi smirked playfully. “Same, it’d be terrible if you ruined my plans to beat you next season.” 

(He tried ignoring the unsettling stare Yakov was giving him) 

Yuri shrugged. “Beats me.” Then, as he moved to glide back inside of rink, the rest following after him, the boy continued, “But anyway, there’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you.” 

Viktor pushed away his dissatisfaction and indulged him. “What’s that?” 

(Close by, he registers a few people with professional cameras have come through the entrance and hopes they’re not here for what he thinks they might be.) 

The other, leaning against the edge of rink in front of Viktor, clicked his tongue. “So… a while back, when I was much younger, there’s something you once said to me. Actually, it was more of a prom–”

“Nikiforov! Nikiforov, over here! Have you discussed your plans for next season with your coach yet?” 

Great, _just_ what he needed. Viktor was definitely used to the media and the cameras, but today he really didn’t feel like putting up with them. He was already physically and mentally exhausted from the routines he’d practiced only moments ago. 

“With my coach? I’m afraid not, sorry.” He at least musters up a polite smile before letting them know, “If you’ll excuse me, I’m very tired from practicing today, so I’ll be heading home right now.” 

Okay, so that dismissal might’ve still come off as a little rude, but he wasn’t going to take it back either. He’d rather listen to Yakov for an entire day than go through another interview. 

While Viktor is skating away to exit the rink, he hears Yuri call out to him. “Wait, Viktor! I wasn’t finished!” 

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly while he turns to look at the other. “Sorry Yuri! Some other day perhaps!” Then he continues to leave, not wanting to see the boy’s displeased expression. 

Viktor rushes to change back into his running shoes once he reaches the locker room, and as soon as that’s done he leaves the building and hurries home. 

He just wants to get home to Makkachin, one of the only bright lights in Viktor’s dim life. Awareness of the dog’s everlasting fondness for Viktor brings comfort to him. 

When he arrives home, Makkachin is there to greet him at the door, and Viktor crouches to kiss the top of his head in return. He mumbles into the dog’s fur, “C’mon Makkachin, let’s rest for a bit.” 

Removing his socks and shoes while walking towards his comfy couch, Viktor arranges the pillows there before laying on it, a relieved sigh that turns into an amused huff escaping him when Makkachin jumps onto his lap. 

He’s a few minutes into petting Makkachin’s fur, about to rest his eyes, when he suddenly feels his phone vibrate. 

Viktor takes out his phone and sees he’s gotten a text from Mila, which reads: 

**You NEED to watch this!!!**

Followed by a link to a YouTube video. 

He taps on the link, and when it loads, his breath stutters once he reads the title. The video is named “[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Viktor FS Program [Stay Close to Me]” 

As the video begins to play on its own, Viktor tries to get ahold of himself in order to give his full attention to the man skating beautifully on screen. He can’t stop his heart from beating wildly inside him though, as he watches Yuuri glide gracefully around an ice rink in an even more perfect rendition of Viktor’s past free skate. Move for move, Yuuri matches Viktor’s performance accurately, and yet he manages to pull it off even better. He figures this is due to the man’s seemingly innocent aura that Viktor has stopped having ever since he won his first Senior Grand Prix Final. The fact that Yuuri’s put on some weight doesn’t even deter Viktor from remaining captivated. The other moves in perfect harmony to the song, as if his body is also creating music along with it, and Viktor wonders how it’s possible for someone to do this so well. He wishes for the video to never end, and yet when it does, he plays it all over again. By the fourth time he’s watched it, he has a hand to his temple, eyes narrowed in contemplation. 

Viktor hadn’t known he’d been waiting for some kind of sign to help him figure out what to do about his heart’s dilemma, but that’s exactly what this was. Yuuri skating to Viktor’s powerful performance was not only incredibly flattering, it also meant that he hadn’t forgotten about Viktor either. Yuuri, who must’ve practiced many times to perfect such a difficult program, had not been able to get Viktor off his mind after all this time too. His heart swells at the thought, and it’s not until now that he notices his entire self feels cocooned inside of that pleasant warmth. It’s as wonderful as the first time he ever felt it, which makes him pause, because something fickle would have faded out by now, so does this mean…?

He thinks, ‘ _Wait…have I been…this whole time?_ ’ 

Is he actually in _love_? 

He’s been neglecting all forms of love for over twenty years, so maybe there was a chance he was mistaken, but what _else_ could it be? 

_Screw it_. 

Even if he’s mistaken, there’s no way he’s not going to pursue this sign. This is a shot at something he hadn’t realized he was longing for ever since Yuuri showed him what it was like to live that one night. Viktor would regret it if he spent his entire life without ever knowing if what he felt for Yuuri was real, and if the other man also felt the same way for him. 

And yet, what was he going to say if he really does go all the way to Japan just to see Yuuri? Would he really show up to confess his feelings even though they might not be returned? Then he’d be stuck wallowing around in an unknown place. No, he needed a genuine reason to be there, but what reason could Yuuri possibly have to want Viktor Nikiforov aro-

Oh right. _Duh_. 

Come to think of it, Coach Nikiforov does have a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? Also, didn’t Yuuri technically invite him over once already? 

It’s about time Viktor took Yuuri up on that offer. 

Determined, the first step he takes into his impulsive scheme is to buy airplane tickets to Kyushu, Japan on his phone. He’d technically end up landing in Fukuoka and have to buy railway tickets to Hasetsu from there, but that was no problem. Before he changes his mind and chickens out, Viktor then calls the first mover company he finds online (because if he’s really going to become a coach, that meant he had to do his best to stay close by in case Yuuri needed Viktor’s help with his skating – or anything really). 

When they answer him, Viktor speaks up, “Yes, hello? I was calling to see if you had anyone available to help pack up my things today. I’m leaving for Japan by tonight is the thing, so I need it done as soon as possible…. In an hour? That’s great! Yes, I’d like that…Viktor Nikiforov…. Here in St. Petersburg… To Hasetsu… it’s in the Kyushu island in Japan…” And when he’s done giving the woman on the phone the rest of his address, he thanks her and then hangs up. 

He figures he should go start packing already while he waits for the movers to show up and rushes to his room to do just that. 

By the time the movers arrive, Viktor has all of his necessary clothes and items neatly packed away in a luggage. He doesn’t have them pack up everything, just a couch, his bed, and some of his favorite things he likes to have around the house, which still ends up filling quite a lot of boxes, but it could be worse. When he fills out the paperwork, he sets the time for his things to arrive at Yuuri’s house (the address of which he found online thanks to some blessed skater otakus) on the same day he should be. All of this, including moving all his luggage into a moving van, takes about four hours, and when the van drives away, Viktor goes to lay on the guest room’s bed, drained of energy. 

God, so he’s _really_ doing this. 

He feels a tongue start to lap on his hand left dangling off the bed, then turns to pet Makkachin fondly. “I can’t wait for you to meet Yuuri, Makkachin. I’m sure you’ll love him.” 

He pats the bed as an invitation for the dog to climb on, and Makkachin listens, curling up next to Viktor. 

His plane leaves at 9 p.m., and right now it’s 7:28 p.m.. Viktor decides it’s now or never and sends a text to Yakov: 

**I have urgent news. Meet me at the bridge at 7:45, I should tell you in person.**

___

Viktor leaves Makkachin tied to a post not too far away from where he’s meeting Yakov, in front of a stop where he knows a bus will drive him to the airport. 

Yakov shows up at exactly 7:45 p.m.., punctual as always. He doesn’t seem amused at all by Viktor’s last-minute request, but asks him anyways, “What’s this about?” 

He takes in a deep breath, thinking of how he should word this, before deciding that straightforwardness would be more appropriate. “Yakov, I’m leaving to Japan.” 

His coach frowns at him, as if Viktor had told him he was cutting off all his hair, but then he sees the suitcase Viktor is holding and Yakov becomes affronted instead. 

“Don’t fuck with me, why the hell would you do that?” 

He almost flinches at the angry tone, but still perseveres in explaining. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, but knowing you, I’m sure you’ve noticed by now… I’ve lost my inspiration, Yakov. But, I think maybe it’s in Japan, so I’m gonna go find it.” 

This only serves to confuse the older man. “What’re you talking about? What about those routines you just skated earlier today?!” 

Viktor’s fists clench at his sides. “An artist can still paint even without a muse. Nothing I’ve come up with now will win me a gold medal though, not if I’m the one skating them. Also, I don’t have the motivation to finish either program until I’ve figured out the things I need to in Japan.” 

“What’s so special about Japan?” There’s so much contempt in Yakov’s voice now. 

It doesn’t stop him from smiling softly, reminded of the reason he was going through with this in the first place. “Why, Yuuri Katsuki of course. I saw this video of him skating to my past free skate routine, and I knew I couldn’t just ignore potential like that. And that’s another thing,” He took another deep breath, before continuing, “I’m going to become a coach.” (It’s not the whole truth, but that’s just for him to know. Yakov only needs the necessary details.) 

Yakov is quiet for some time, scrutinizing Viktor’s expression. Eventually, he sighs wearily. “I’d ask if you were joking, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this serious about anything. And yet, Viktor, I’m sorry, but I don’t approve of this. This is too much even for you. You don’t know a thing about coaching! What makes you think everything is going to work out if you stop skating for such a foolish reason? You don’t have to leave the country just because you want to find some ‘ _inspiration_ ’. You need to go home and stop being so reckless!” 

Even used to the man’s reprimands by now, Viktor is still taken aback from how righteous Yakov has become. Nonetheless, if Viktor wants Yakov to accept things, he’s going to have to be just as cruel. “You might be right, but you know what?”, here, his voice becomes more assertive, “I don’t care. I don’t’ want to live with regret, so I’m still going. So, if that’s all you have to say…?”

Silence is his only answer. 

Viktor states in a neutral tone, “Feel free to speak to my publicist over how to handle the break I’m taking. You can share the explanation I just gave you to help everyone understand,” and then turns to walk away, suitcase in hand, in the chilly night. 

He’s only taken a few steps before he hears a voice call out to him. “Vitya! Don’t go! Stay here!” 

Viktor turns around, smiles, and says (because this man deserves Viktor’s respect for once), while walking back towards man, “Yakov, you were the best coach I ever had. You always will be.” 

Yakov’s response is desperate. “If you walk away now, you can never come back!” 

He drops his briefcase, moves to put his hand to Yakov’s cheek, then leans in to whisper in Yakov’s ear, “Dasvidaniya,” and proceeds to kiss him on the cheek. He continues in a rueful tone, “I’m sorry I can’t do as you say this time” 

___

Yakov ends up driving him and Makkachin to the airport, as if he’s buying up time trying to figure out how to convince Viktor to stay. It’s sweet until Viktor is leaving to go board the plane; then it’s just bittersweet. 

Yakov tries again after Viktor has passed through the security checkpoint with Makkachin (who’s enjoying his carrier), “You shouldn’t do this.” 

He shakes his head, and says, “You don’t know that.” 

That elicits a pissed off reply, wherein Yakov finally explodes. “Yes, I do! You know why?! Because I’m a coach! With _experience_! I know exactly what this means! Hey- don’t you walk away from me! How can you say you’re sorry about not listening to me! Viktor! Viktor!” 

Viktor wishes he hadn’t left off on a bad note with Yakov, but he _has_ to leave, and doesn’t want to stick around for when the accusations become uglier. He might deserve them, but he’s not that kind of a masochist. 

When he’s finally boarded the plane, comfortable in his seat, Viktor can’t help letting out a beaming smile, hopes Yakov can somehow see him, and waves out the window, claiming, “You should come visit Japan, Yakov.” He’s aware the man can’t hear him, but he’s traveled to this nice country before, and believes Yakov would also have a great time there if he gave it a shot. 

Viktor knows he’s definitely looking forward to spending his break from competing there. 

As he’s about to fall asleep, he admits to himself, ‘ _Yuuri, I’m glad you haven’t forgotten about me. I’m on my way._ ’ 

Not only would Viktor get to know the potential love of his life, he was also going to do his damn best to make a champion out of him. 

___

( _April 11, 2015. Hasetsu, Japan_ ) 

He arrives in Hasetsu with a spring in his step, jet lag nonexistent due to a career that’s conditioned him to traveling. 

Yuuri is there to greet him when he steps off the train with Makkachin (it had taken a lot of convincing and a small – to him – fee for his dog to be allowed on board with him after the plane landed in Fukuoka. He had no shame in pulling out his famous figure skater card, which let him have his way as long as Makkachin was kept in a carry-on cage). Well, not the _real_ Yuuri, just poster Yuuri. It’s a fantastic sight nonetheless, one he could get used to. 

The sight of snow that welcomes him as he leaves the station to hail a cab makes him grateful that he wore a jacket. It’s also very calming for him. 

He dislikes having to keep Makkachin in a cage, but it’s only until he reaches the Katsuki’s home, so he puts up with it after giving the driver the address for the hot springs and does his best to remain patient as the man drives. His restless leg betrays his usually patient self. 

Viktor can’t help it though. He was going to _see_ Yuuri in less than an hour, which made his longing ever more present and hard to ignore. 

When the cab finally arrives at the hot springs, named “ _Yu-topia Katsuki_ ”, he practically jumps out after slamming a bunch of bills in the driver’s hand, takes the cage out to let Makkachin loose, grabs his suitcase, and then almost trips in his haste to reach the entrance. 

He instructs Makkachin to wait outside before sliding the shoji screen doors open. A small, pudgy man waits behind a reception desk with the name tag ‘Toshiya Katsuki’, and upon noticing and scrutinizing Viktor, asks politely in decent English (Oh thank god), “Hello, welcome to ‘ _Yu-topia Katsuki_ ’, what can I do for you today?” 

‘ _This man is related to Yuuri. Father? Uncle? Cousin?_ ’ Somehow, this knowledge stops him from stating what he wants to the most ( _I came here for Yuuri! Where is he?!_ ), and instead he blurts out, “I heard this was the best hot spring in town, so I wanted to see for myself. I’m sure it’s true though, especially since Japan’s finest figure skater probably comes from a hard-working family as well.” He then puts on the most charming smile he has up his sleeve. 

Toshiya’s cheeks redden as he waves away Viktor’s comments. “Stop, you flatter too much! We’re only the best because we’re the only one that hasn’t shut down. Our Yuuri certainly is the pride of this town, so we do get tourists, but it’s mostly the locals that keep our business afloat. It’s nice of you to say such things though, so if I had to recommend the best, it would be our luxury service. However, it’s a bit pricey.” 

He shakes his head, still smiling (the way this man speaks of Yuuri is fond in a way only a parental figure can pull off, so he concludes this man is probably Yuuri’s father).“No worries, I promise I can afford it.” 

Toshiya returns the smile, and states happily, “Great, then follow me! I’ll show you to the changing rooms.” 

Viktor holds up one finger as the man leaves the counter. “Um, one second. If it’s not too much trouble, may I ask you for a favor?” 

Toshiya nods his head. “Ask away.” 

He turns around, opens the sliding doors, and Makkachin comes bounding inside, skidding to a halt in front of Toshiya. 

“What is your policy on pets?” He hopes Toshiya has a soft spot for Makkachin as most people do. 

“Oh-oh.” For a moment Viktor thinks Toshiya might cry as he stares at Viktor’s poodle, but the man ends up shaking off his melancholy expression in exchange for an extremely pleased one. “I- yes! Yes, he can stay in our backyard! It’s no trouble at all, we even have a dog house he can use!” 

Wow, that’s a lot better than he’d hoped for. Viktor bows to show his gratitude. “Arigatou, Katsuki-san, now where would this backyard be?” 

Toshiya shakes his finger at him, as if he doesn’t want Viktor to go through the struggle. “Don’t bother yourself looking for it, I’ll have my wife take him; she’ll be excited to see your lovely poodle.” He then cups his mouth and calls out in a direction behind him, “Hiroko, could you come over here please?!” 

A small, plump woman, with an aura as bright as they come, shows up from one of the hallways and asks Toshiya in Japanese, though Viktor knows enough of the language to understand the question, “What is it sweetheart?” Yet, her husband does not get to answer because as soon as she sees Makkachin, Hiroko rushes over and begins to fawn over him excitedly. He only understands the word “cute” and smiles in amusement at how enthusiastic this family was about his poodle. He can’t blame them though; poodles rule. 

Toshiya eventually tries to get his wife’s attention again. “Hiroko, I need you to take this gentleman’s dog to our backyard. He says he’s come here to try our hot springs all the way from…uh, sorry, where are you from?” 

“Russia, Katskuki-san.” 

Hiroko has now switched to a bit rustier, but understandable English, “Wow, you don’t say? Do you speak Japanese too, Mr., um, what’s your name?” 

He chuckles, feeling giddy that he’s holding on to a secret. “Just call me Viktor. And only enough to get by on vacation.” 

Toshiya seems satisfied with his answer. “That’s still good, it’s more than most. Okay then, Viktor, please follow me. You can just leave your suitcase behind the counter. Hiroko, try not to replace me with the dog.” 

He obediently listens to Toshiya and trails after him, leaving Makkachin behind with an excited Hiroko. Viktor doesn’t mind leaving his precious dog with her, or the fact that he now has to wait a bit longer to meet Yuuri. 

If these were Yuuri’s parents, then surely by now he’d made a good impression on them, and for some reason this really mattered to him as well. 

___

While putting on his robe in the changing room, Viktor gets a call from the movers saying they’ve arrived. He tells them to just unload everything at the entrance. He wants his moving in to be a surprise. Viktor puts his things neatly away in one of the lockers, and then walks to one of the doors Toshiya said led to the nicest hot springs. 

When he steps outside, he reflects over the beauty of the lovely baths that have been set up, and decides ‘nice’ is a major understatement used to describe them. As he walks forward, he thinks he hears Makkachin’s barking from a distance, but shrugs it off. His dog was always restless in new environments. 

Viktor takes off his robe, and then proceeds to enter the hot spring. 

It’s _blissful_. That’s the only word to describe the warmth seeping into his bones that’s almost as wonderful as the one currently residing in his heart. When he feels finally settled in, he puts a hot towel on his head, and the bliss becomes even more amazing from there. 

Just as he ponders whether this experience beats the night at the banquet, suddenly the shoji screen doors slide open with a loud screech, and the man who’s been on his mind and making a mess out of his heart for so long is revealed, in the flesh and in a frenzy looking for who knows what. 

He figures out it’s him Yuuri was looking for, because the other stops his search, freezing the moment he spots Viktor, and then starts to exclaim, “Vi- Viktor…. Why are you here?” 

Hearing Yuuri say his name causes his heart to start beating in a furious tempo similar to that of Beethoven’s fifth symphony. Well, he’d been planning to go about this in a more subtle manner after soaking in the best bath of his life, but now that Yuuri was here, there was honestly no need for that. 

Viktor gets up slowly, posing in all his wet, naked glory (he knew he had nothing to be ashamed of, except his hairline, but that was another story for another day), and says (more like declares) cheerfully, because he expects Yuuri to get excited over the news, “Yuuri, starting today, I’m your coach. I’ll make you win the Grand Prix Final.” Then, to top it off, he also winks, because, ‘ _Haha, y’know what im referring to, right Yuuri? Get it, because you asked me to before? Now you get your wish come true. Cool, right Yuuri?_ ’ 

Yuuri is silently staring at him in shock, kind of like if he can’t really believe what he’s seeing and hearing. Viktor is proven right when Yuuri abruptly gasps out a, “Huh?”, and then blurts out for practically all of Hasetsu to hear, “ _WHAT?!!!_ ” 

Maybe he should’ve gone for subtle. 

**Author's Note:**

> 1 - I know there's a theory out there that the first pictures Viktor took at the banquet were actually of Yuuri confronting Viktor and not Yurio. I'm not saying it's wrong, and in fact think it makes a great point, but most of this story was written when I found out about it, so I decided just to keep it this way since it's not exactly the biggest game changer.
> 
> 2 - This story will go at a faster pace while I'm on break from uni right now, but once I start classes again, it will become inconsistent, so sorry in advance. I'm very dedicated to my studies and I know next semester is about to get rougher. Nonetheless, I don't plan to drop this fic at all and promise to get it finished. It's more than likely going to be around 13 or 14 chapters, with the potential for a sequel because I have so many headcannons for what happens after episode 12.
> 
> 3- I set things up to the year 2015 because I was more comfortable with having real life figure skating events/competitions line up with the story. It feels like it makes more sense this way somehow, even though the first date is inaccurate in terms of the real 2014 GPF, which was actually held in Sochi back in 2012, and the 2015 WFSC, which actually happened in Shanghai, China. Besides that, the other dates are correct.
> 
> 4 - I love this fandom very much and feel honored for the gift Kubo-sensei gave us all. I'm dedicating this fic to her beautiful story, so thank you to everyone who's read this and I would be very grateful if you left kudos and/or comments. Even something simple like " :D " is totally fine and appreciated.♥♥♥
> 
> Feel free to come by my tumblr! - algernonblogs.tumblr.com


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